


Exposed

by LollipopCop



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale is so in love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Virgin Crowley (Good Omens), Wing sex, Wingfic, but he thinks so for a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-24 12:51:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19724044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LollipopCop/pseuds/LollipopCop
Summary: “Oh,” Gabriel’s eyes widened, hand coming to rest upon his chest. The smugness left his face, instantly replaced with realization and a hint of horror in his eerie, violet eyes. He was quiet for a long, unbearable pause.“Uh, what?” Crowley asked, lifting his head.Gabriel was staring at Aziraphale, looking positively astounded. “I feel it. I, this has been around you for a long time, but I feel it even more now. I guess because he’s actually here with you.”Aziraphale shifted on his feet anxiously, dread in the pit of his stomach. “What on earth are you talking about?”“You love him,” Gabriel said, almost in awe. It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement of fact.Crowley’s jaw dropped with an audible intake of breath and his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose. He whipped around to him.Aziraphale wanted to bolt.~~~~In which Gabriel can feel how much Aziraphale loves Crowley, and outs him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist writing for this fandom again, lads. I'm an angst queen and needed to write this.  
> EDIT:  
> A [Russian translation](https://ficbook.net/readfic/8588264) is now available! :D

It turned out that Heaven would leave earth alone for two years before trying to start the apocalypse again, but this time, they had not even attempted to contact Aziraphale and Crowley, but went straight to the source: Adam.

It had been the most peaceful two years of Aziraphale’s life. He felt free for the first time in his existence without the other angels breathing down his neck, or Heaven’s strict ideology making him feel guilty over being with Crowley. Speaking of which, he and Crowley spent more time than ever together. They didn’t live together, but spent enough time in each other’s respective homes that they might as well have. Without Hell on his tail, Crowley was more at ease, too. He was still the mischievous old serpent he always was, but he laughed more now, and didn’t shove Aziraphale up against a wall when he called him nice. 

Still, they weren’t anything more than friends, which...Aziraphale had mixed feelings about. He knew now, as he realized in 1941, that he was deeply in love with Crowley. He wanted to be with him as much as possible, but 6,000 years of denial and self-loathing were difficult to shake. He wanted to embrace Crowley, shower him with love and kiss him for days on end (since they didn’t need air, he could do that, in theory). But he spent so long believing angels were not supposed to feel desire that he was afraid to act on his emotions. Plus, there was the whole issue of how Crowley felt. Aziraphale knew Crowley cared for him, but there was a difference between romance and friendship. Could Crowley feel romance? Could any demon? He was genuinely unsure. Crowley may have differed from the other demons, but he was still Fallen. 

Sometimes, he would give him a look without his sunglasses and Aziraphale thought _maybe_ , but other times he thought it a ridiculous notion. He couldn’t even feel love coming from Crowley, and wasn’t that proof? He wanted more, but imagined Crowley laughing cruelly at him once he confessed his love. The logical side of him knew Crowley wasn’t cruel, not towards him, but the fear of ruining what they had forever was strong. He was so afraid to love for so long, and if his love were to be met with scorn, Aziraphale wasn’t sure he could recover from it. Despite this, his heart sped up when Crowley would look at him with what he could only describe as fondness every time. 

On one memorable evening, after too many drinks and popping a bad film into Crowley’s DVD player, Aziraphale had fallen asleep, lulled into relaxation by the wine, cushions of the sofa, the hum of the television, and Crowley’s deep voice commenting on the plot every couple minutes. He rarely slept, but letting his guard down after the failed apocalypse had its side effects. He hadn’t even realized he fell asleep until he felt a light shaking on his chest, not enough to startle him, but enough to pull his alcohol-laced brain out of slumber.

“Wha?” he had mumbled inelegantly, eyes closed.

“Wake up, angel,” Crowley had said in a hushed voice. “The film’s over.”

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open, and were met with dark sunglasses. Even with them on, Crowley’s features were kind.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Aziraphale sat up, unused to being caught in a state as vulnerable as sleep around anyone else, especially not him.

“It’s all right,” the corners of Crowley’s lips had quirked up. “Not a problem at all. You can stay, if you like, but I wanted to give you the option to go home.”

“I,” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet, “I should head home, actually. Thanks, um, Crowley, for the night.”

Crowley’s tiny smile was gone. “Don’t mention it. Goodnight, Aziraphale.”

It was a moment Aziraphale kept playing in his head over and over. He kept remembering Crowley’s face, his voice, the way he had woken him up with consideration. Did it mean anything? That night made him realize that, as much as he wanted to shower Crowley with affection, he, well, wanted it the other way around, too. It was uncomfortable to admit that he desired care and intimacy, but he found himself imagining what it would be like if Crowley’s arms were around him, holding him close, if he rested his head on his thin chest and listened to his heartbeat in a cozy corner of his bookshop...

The bottom line was that Aziraphale didn’t know, two years later, whether or not he should act on his gut feeling or listen to his brain.

He was shaken out of his reverie when he realized Crowley was calling him. _Speak of the devil._ “Hello?”

“Aziraphale, Adam just called me.”

Aziraphale got a sinking feeling. “Oh no.”

“Oh, yes. He said it’s an angel. Up for a trip to Tadfield?”

“I suppose so,” Aziraphale said, taking off his reading glasses. After the averted apocalypse, Crowley had given Adam is phone number.

“Look,” he had said, “you probably know that these jerks won’t leave you alone forever, right? If any angel or demon comes and bothers you, just call. We’ll be there.”

Adam had nodded with a sigh. “No offense, but I hope I never have to call you.”

“None taken,” Crowley said easily, “I agree.”

“Did he saw what angel it was?” Aziraphale asked in the present day.

“No, but I don’t think he knows who’s who, anyway.”

“True. When will--?”

He heard a horn honk outside.

“I’m here now. Get a move on, angel.”

In the car, both of them were on edge. Whoever the angel was, they had to be looking for trouble.

“I thought we’d have more time,” Aziraphale said quietly, looking out the window.

“Yeah,” Crowley sighed. “Let’s just hope we can send whoever it is away and get back to ignoring Heaven and Hell.”

“Has Hell contacted you?”

“Nope,” Crowley said, popping the ‘p’. “Still not a word from them.”

“Well, good.” Aziraphale looked at him, feeling a little ache in his chest. He did hope everything worked out today, and not just for humanity’s sake. He wanted to get back to peace in his bookshop with Crowley. After thousands of years of work, he felt he deserved a nice holiday for quite some time. Crowley deserved time off, too. He had revealed to Aziraphale just how much he hated being down in Hell, and he only went there when he absolutely had to. Aziraphale felt sorry for him, and a part of him wanted to protect Crowley from the miseries of Hell, as ludicrous as the sentiment was.

Crowley raised an eyebrow and glanced over at him, the corner of his yellow eye visible from this angle. “Why you staring at me?”

Aziraphale looked away immediately, back out the window. “Apologies, I got lost in thought.”

Crowley hummed noncommittally. 

It was getting harder to hide his feelings in general lately, but he was just thinking about how much he loved Crowley before he called. He needed to snap out of it. They had more important things to worry about at the moment.

“Hope we can get done with this soon,” Crowley muttered. “Maybe we can be back in London for dinner.”

“That would be lovely,” Aziraphale smiled lightly, and fought away the little bit of warmth he felt at Crowley wanting to have dinner with him. They did it countless times by now, but it always made him feel, well, wanted. Oh, what an absurd fool he was. 

Crowley took a sharp turn, and Aziraphale gasped. “Crowley!”

“You wanna get there fast or not?” he asked with a smirk.

He did, but still hated being in a car moving this fast! “Ugh, I need music,” Aziraphale said, fumbling with the nearest CD case and putting it in the player.

_Love of my life, you've hurt me_

_You've broken my heart and now you leave me_

_Love of my life, can't you see?_

_Bring it back, bring it back_

_Don't take it away from me, because you don't know_

_What it means to me_

Aziraphale felt heat slowly crawl up his collar. He didn’t expect a song like this to be in Crowley’s collection. He risked glancing at him.

Crowley was staring ahead at the road, but his grip was tight enough on the wheel for the skin of his knuckles to be white and taut, his jaw clenched, and...was there a hint of pink on his face?

Aziraphale’s lips parted, and he swallowed audibly. “Um, Crowley? What’s this--?”

“It’s by Queen,” he said through clenched teeth, not looking at him. “Gotta suffer through the soppy ones to hear the cool ones.”

Aziraphale’s shoulders drooped. “Yes. Of course,” he mumbled, disappointment creeping over him.

* * *

Crowley parked the car crooked on the road and sauntered out, slamming the door. “Aw, shit,” he said.

“What?” Aziraphale asked, stepping out of the car. They were in front of Adam’s house, and he saw a small crowd in the distance, in the field behind the backyard. Even from here, he recognized the silhouette. “Damn.” He hadn’t heard a word from Gabriel since the failed apocalypse, and Crowley hadn’t seen him since the body swap, but there he was.

Exchanging a look, they rushed over.

Adam and his friends were glaring at Gabriel. They were a little older now, but had the same fierce looks in their eyes as they did at the air base.

“Will you please?” Gabriel sighed. “You’re trying my patience.”

“Whatever,” Adam shrugged, unimpressed. He looked past Gabriel. “Oh, you’re here.”

Gabriel spun around, features hard on his chiseled face. “How great. What are you two doing here?”

“That’s what we should be asking you,” Aziraphale said, stepping beside Adam. “Hello, Adam,” he flashed him a quick smile.

“Hey.”

“I’m _here_ to reason with this young man,” Gabriel said, plastering a fake smile on his face. “He’s so smart, after all, that he’ll surely come to realize why he should fulfill his destiny.”

“I already told you I’m not interested!” Adam shot back.

“He’s been telling you since you showed up uninvited,” Pepper said.

“But he’s only postponing the inevitable,” Gabriel insisted, violet eyes cold behind his cheesy smile. “The Great Plan will happen one way or another.”

“You’re a know-it-all,” Brian said.

Aziraphale bit his cheek to hide his smirk when Gabriel’s lip twitched.

“As long as I can help it, the world will keep going,” Adam said, seeming to grow bored. “And you can’t kill me, because that would be against the Plan.” He smirked. “Right?”

Gabriel was glowering now, and Crowley laughed.

“Good point,” Crowley told Adam. “He can’t do a thing to you, and he’s furious over it. Look.”

“Shut it, creature,” Gabriel snapped.

Protectiveness swept over Aziraphale. Gabriel had no right to call Crowley names. He opened his mouth to tell him so, but Pepper spoke before him.

“Aren’t you all creatures?” she asked curiously. “None of you are human...which is still weird to think about, by the way.”

“I cannot be lumped with him,” Gabriel pointed at Crowley. “I’m a divine being and he’s a demon. He’s evil and a bastardization of God’s creation.” He smiled. “Oh, that rhymed. I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Cocky bastard,” Crowley muttered. To others, he may have looked aloof behind his sunglasses, but Aziraphale could tell by the subtle slump in his posture that Gabriel’s remark bothered him.

Aziraphale was growing truly angry now.

“I dunno, you don’t seem much better,” Adam said casually.

“Burn!” Pepper laughed.

Gabriel looked beyond insulted. “Why, you little--! I am one of the holiest beings in Creation!” he spluttered.

Crowley looked back at the kids. “Why don’t you lot run along and go whatever it is kids do? You’ve already told him off, he can’t hurt Adam, and we can get him to leave.”

“Are you sure?” Adam asked. “I’m not afraid of him.”

“Not saying you are,” Crowley said, “but he’s wasting your time.”

“Yeah, he is,” Adam agreed. “The answer is _no_ ,” he said. “It’ll be _no_ forever. I’m gonna go play with my friends now. Thanks, you two,” he said to Crowley and Aziraphale.

“Don’t mention it,” Aziraphale gave him a bright smile, but still burned with anger inside. Honestly, Crowley was far from evil, or a bastardization. Gabriel would never think otherwise, though, the colossal moron that he was. “We can take it from here.”

The kids went away, laughing about how weird their day was and that Gabriel’s suit was tacky. 

Once they were out of earshot, Gabriel shot daggers at Aziraphale and Crowley. “You’re deluding yourselves. The war _will_ commence one day.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Crowley waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you float on back to Heaven and stop bothering children? Creep.”

Gabriel had an icy smile on his face. “I don’t know who you think you are to talk to me this way, demon, but I’m the archangel fucking Gabriel.”

“Ohhh, thanks for the reminder,” he drawled, “I’d forgotten.”

“You beast,” Gabriel spat.

“You shouldn’t call him those things!” Aziraphale chastised him, fists clenching. “It’s very unbecoming of an angel.”

Crowley looked at him, a little surprised. “You don’t have to--”

“Unbecoming of an angel?” Gabriel interrupted him. “You’re a traitor, and you dare lecture me on how to be an angel, and in defense of a _demon_?”

Aziraphale was afraid of him for a long time, but he was rather tired of Heaven treating them both like garbage. After some distance and not answering to Heaven anymore, he felt liberated. Gabriel tried to murder him, for goodness’ sake! He owed him nothing, not a single ounce of the respect he once had for him. Angels were meant to be merciful, but if it were up to Gabriel, he would have been extinct by now. Why should he show any mercy towards him? Huh. Crowley really was having an influence on him. “I do dare,” Aziraphale insisted, lifting his chin. “I will not have you speak to my friend in such a manner.”

Gabriel’s eyes shifted between them, his emotion unreadable. “Michael told me about you two right before Armageddon was supposed to happen. I saw the pictures. You’ve been a traitor for a long time, right under our noses.”

“If having a friend is being a traitor, then so be it,” Aziraphale said. He would have never been able to do this two years ago, but he now knew he didn’t want Heaven’s respect. Heaven, itself, was not worth respecting after clamoring for a war that would wipe out humanity. Besides, if he really did something wrong, he would Fall, and so far, God seemed okay with his actions. “I refuse to believe companionship is wrong.” Even if it were wrong, they had been through so much, and Aziraphale didn’t want to give up their relationship for anything. Not anymore.

Crowley was oddly silent beside him.

“I don’t know how you can be friends with someone like him,” Gabriel laughed in disbelief. “I really don’t. It’s absurd.”

“You don’t understand a lot of things,” Aziraphale said. He was getting tired of this. Adam was gone, Gabriel had been dismissed by kids, and the afternoon was slipping away. He wanted to go home. “Crowley, let’s go.”

“Agreed,” he muttered.

“So what, do you two live together now?” Gabriel asked, lip curling in disgust.

“No,” Aziraphale said, as Crowley said, “None of your business.”

Gabriel looked at them with incredulity. “It’s inconceivable. You really choose to spend time with one of the Fallen.”

“I get you don’t know what having a friend is like,” Crowley started, voice low, “but it’s really not unbelievable.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Did I say you could speak?”

“Stop,” Aziraphale told him sternly. “I already told you not to speak to him that way.”

“Defensive, are you?” Gabriel smirked. “Uriel did say you were like boyfriends. If you’re going to go against Heaven, then why not go all the way, huh?” he laughed.

Aziraphale couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to his face. This was getting too personal. He already had a hard time pushing down his emotions today, and he didn’t need this. He didn’t care about what Gabriel thought of him anymore, but the matter of his heart was his concern, and his alone. He looked over at Crowley.

Crowley wasn’t looking at either of them, his face turned down towards the ground and his hands were in his pockets, a deep frown pulling down his lips and a furrow in his brow.

 _Oh no_. The boyfriend remark made him uncomfortable. Crowley never got embarrassed, but that was the only way Aziraphale could describe the look on his face. That was evidence, then, that Crowley didn’t feel the same way. He only saw him as a good friend. Gabriel had to go and make things awkward. What if Crowley didn’t talk to him for decades after this? No, no, Aziraphale could salvage this. He could just write it off as a baseless accusation. Crowley wasn’t inclined to believe Gabriel about anything, anyway. He just had to play the part.

Aziraphale’s chest felt heavy. “I...U-Uriel didn’t know what she was talking about.” He hated that stammer in his voice. “We’re not that. Never have been.” The words hurt to say.

“Then why the fuss?” Gabriel laughed again, seeming to really enjoy this.

“Because he deserves more than your scorn!” Aziraphale snapped, losing all patience, pushed to the limit. He felt the need to spread his wings to intimidate Gabriel away from them. It was, he supposed, a very primitive feeling. “Crowley is better than any of the angels in Heaven who were preparing for bloodshed two years ago, and I won’t have you stand here and spout such nonsense about him. Leave us alone.” Once the words left his lips, Aziraphale thought Gabriel would grow furious with the notion that a demon was better than he was. That didn’t happen. In fact, surprise came instead of anger.

“Oh,” Gabriel’s eyes widened, hand coming to rest upon his chest. The smugness left his face, instantly replaced with realization and a hint of horror in his eerie, violet eyes. He was quiet for a long, unbearable pause. 

“Uh, what?” Crowley asked, lifting his head.

Gabriel was staring at Aziraphale, looking positively astounded. “I feel it. I, this has been around you for a long time, but I feel it even more now. I guess because he’s actually here with you.”

Aziraphale shifted on his feet anxiously, dread in the pit of his stomach. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“You _love_ him,” Gabriel said, almost in awe. It wasn’t an accusation, but a statement of fact.

Crowley’s jaw dropped with an audible intake of breath and his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose. He whipped around to him.

Aziraphale wanted to bolt. He couldn’t bear to look at Crowley for another moment, so he ripped his gaze away, heart hammering painfully in his chest. “I--I have no idea what you’re on about,” he denied, voice higher in pitch than usual.

A malicious smile slowly spread on Gabriel’s face, eyes mocking and delighted. “You’re even more pathetic than I thought,” he said softly.

Aziraphale stepped backwards, all of his earlier confidence rapidly draining out of him in an instant. Crowley’s gaze burned into the side of his face. “You’re mistaken,” he protested pointlessly.

Gabriel chuckled then, quiet and low. “Hello? Archangel? I know love when I feel it,” he turned to Crowley, “and this angel has _boatloads_ for you. I know you can’t feel it anymore, but trust me,” he patted his chest, “it’s there.”

Crowley was still as stone, jaw still dropped, yellow eyes the size of dinner plates behind his lowered glasses, astonished.

Aziraphale was certain he was scarlet. He hadn’t felt this particular brand of awful before. He went through a lot in his long life, but being exposed and humiliated to the love of his life by his would-be murdering ex-boss? He never felt a pain quite like it. Their post-apocalypse bliss was destroyed, all plausible deniability out the window. It felt like his heart was stabbed, stinging and bleeding into his chest and sending waves of desolation through his veins. “I,” he croaked. “I feel love for all God’s creatures, as do all angels.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Gabriel laughed again, apparently finding all of this amazingly humorous, rocking back on his heels, “I feel no love for the damned. Plus, I feel the difference between angelic love and romantic love, idiot.”

Aziraphale could say nothing more. He wanted to hide, and wished he had Crowley’s snake transformation ability so he could go down in the grass and slither away.

Crowley was breathing heavily beside him, chest and shoulders visibly moving up and down with each inhale and exhale. He still hadn’t blinked or closed his mouth. His hands were trembling ever so slightly by his sides.

Aziraphale was inconsolable. He wanted to go home and cry, which was something he never did, ever. He just felt like he needed to expel all of the misery from his body, but knew crying wouldn’t actually reverse what had just happened. Nothing would. 

Gabriel clasped his hands together, smiling brightly at them. “Well! This was an interesting turn of events. I think I’ll go back to Heaven and tell the other angels. They’ll have a laugh.” He was about to snap back to Heaven, but halted his action, fingers in the air. “Oh, and Aziraphale?” he asked playfully. “You know he’s incapable of loving you back, right?” He snapped his fingers, and he was gone.

It was a good thing he didn’t need air, because Aziraphale’s throat was so tight he was certain not even oxygen could pass through.

Crowley blinked slowly, swallowing and snapping his lips shut. His yellow eyes were petrified, locked onto him intensely. “Aziraphale?” he asked, voice fragile like glass.

Aziraphale couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He had to--he had to run. He had to run immediately. Looking around and finding no one walking around the sleepy village at this hour, he extended his wings and shot into the sky, ignoring Crowley’s cry of, “No! Wait!”

Aziraphale flew up in the sky, high enough so no human below would be able to see. He just flew, not knowing where he was going or when he would stop. The wind bit his face, blowing back the streams of tears that leaked from his eyes. At least up in the sky, no one could hear his sobs. Eventually, after the sun set, he came across a mountain. He saw a wide ledge with a metal barrier, the area most likely used as a camping site during the summer. Seeing it was empty, he flew down to it. He sat on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest and wings wrapped around himself. He folded his arms atop his knees and buried his face in them, shaking. Why did someone as awful as Gabriel get to be an archangel, but someone as amazing as Crowley was thrown into Hell? It wasn’t fair. It--oh, look at him. Even now, he couldn’t help but gush over him. Gabriel was right. He was pathetic. Completely and utterly pathetic, a total failure of an angel.

_You know he’s incapable of loving you back, right?_

That hurt the most, because Aziraphale knew. He knew and he didn’t want to fully admit to the idea. He wanted some hope. Now, Gabriel was probably cackling at his expense with the other angels. He was the laughingstock of Heaven: the angel who fell in love with a demon. The angel who was head over heels for a being they considered drastically inferior. He could never face the angels again. If only he could have shut his mouth, then maybe his love for Crowley would not have been more palpable this time for Gabriel to have felt it. He hadn’t been thinking. He got careless. Love made him stupid. Love _hurt_.

Aziraphale didn’t know how long he stayed there, huddled up and shaking on the ground, but it was now dark and cold. He would probably have to fold up his wings eventually, although he supposed he could just say they were part of a costume if a human came by. He was too cold to put them away right now, and he also wanted to stay hidden. His wings were a soft, warm shelter from reality.

The sound of strong wind filled his ears, a big _fwoosh_ blowing a breeze onto him. He didn’t look up.

“There you are,” a voice murmured in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole fic would have been a little long for a one-shot, so I decided to split it into two chapters. The next chapter is halfway done and will have Tender Sex™.


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale recognized that voice anywhere. He curled his wings tighter around himself, biting his lip, holding back a fresh wave of tears. He had made an idiot out of himself in front of Crowley more than enough for eternity. What was he supposed to say? It was like his heart had been cut out and was beating on the ground in front of him.

A hand gently stroked his wing.

Aziraphale shivered involuntarily. Their wings were so sensitive. One touch could send them into ecstasy, and another into blinding pain. No one ever touched his wings before since they were so rarely out. He wanted to shout and tell Crowley to leave, but didn’t have the strength to raise his voice.

Crowley kept stroking gently, stepping closer and gently taking hold of both wings, pulling them apart to reveal him. 

Aziraphale lifted his head, jaw clenched tightly so it didn’t shake.

Crowley’s own wings were extended, black as the night sky, and his glasses were off. He gazed down at him with sorrow. “Oh, angel,” he breathed sadly.

Aziraphale shook his head roughly. “Get away,” he said hoarsely, throat scratchy from hours of disuse and weeping.

Crowley didn’t move or speak. He stared down at him, eyes were more gentle than Aziraphale had ever seen them. He sat down beside him on the ground, extended his left wing, and wrapped it around his form, like an arm wrapping around his shoulders. 

Neither spoke for a long, tense moment. Aziraphale remembered the day they met in Eden when it rained for the first time. He lowered his knees, sitting in a more upright position to appear less vulnerable, as pointless as that was. He looked down at the ground. He didn’t know what to expect, but Crowley using his wing to comfort him wasn’t it. But he didn’t want his pity, either. “Why are you here?” he asked gruffly. “Can’t you take a hint?”

“Aziraphale,” he said quietly, “if you truly want me to leave, I will. But not before we talk.”

Aziraphale wasn’t breathing, grateful for not needing to. “What’s there to say?”

Crowley’s wing wrapped tighter around him. Aziraphale never had someone else’s wing touch him before. The feeling almost made him dizzy. “I don’t trust Gabriel,” Crowley said, looking up at the starry sky, “but that seemed like a weird lie even for him. I didn’t know what to think—how could an angel love the Damned?—until I saw your reaction.”

Mortification stung his face. If he spoke, his voice would have been wrecked, so he kept his mouth shut. He wanted to hide inside his wings again. His fists were clenched atop his thighs.

Crowley’s eyes were still on the stars. “I’ve waited a long time,” he said, voice low enough to rumble. “I didn’t always know what for, but I got a feeling we could be something more. I didn’t know that’s how you felt before today, I swear, but call it a hunch, I guess. No one, especially not an angel, ever showed me kindness the way you did, so I thought, ‘yeah, maybe there’s something there. He’s special.’ I gave you space, except when you were in trouble. I knew it was harder for you than me. I’m used to breaking the rules.”

Aziraphale didn’t know where he was going with this, but didn’t trust himself to speak.

Crowley’s shoulders moved up and down in a small sigh. “As I looked for you, I tried thinking of what to say, but it’s hard. I dunno if I’m doing a good job. It’s shocking, being a demon but having an angel love you.”

Aziraphale winced, feeling his wings shrink further in on himself. “Crowley—“

“If you want me to leave, I will,” he said to the sky. “I’ll wait as long as you need. A millennium. Or six.” Then, his head turned down towards the ground. “Just knowing how you feel...it’d be enough to, you know. Keep me going.”

Aziraphale was dumbfounded. This was not at all the scorn he feared. It wasn’t even rejection. “Wha...What exactly would you be waiting for?” he asked haltingly.

Crowley hesitantly turned his face upwards to look at him from under his lashes. Despite the smoothness of his voice, there was a shade of fear in his eyes. He swallowed audibly. “For you to, well, be with me.” His wing quivered around Aziraphale’s shoulders.

Aziraphale didn’t register a word he said for a beat, and then his heart was a jackhammer in his chest, the tips of his ears burning. “Why would you want that?”

Despite there being an almost hopeful raise of his eyebrows, he was pouting and giving him a look like he was the thickest person on the planet. Crowley suddenly leaned in closer, pressing his cool lips against his cheek. His lips lingered, ghosting warm breath on his skin before he pulled away with an anxious twist to the corner of his mouth.

Aziraphale didn’t know what his face looked like, but it must have been cartoonishly astonished. “What was that?”

Crowley licked his lips nervously. “A kiss. Humans do it when they love each other.” He averted his eyes for a second. “Okay, that’s not the reason behind _every_ kiss, but it’s one of them.”

Aziraphale was breathing again, but erratically. “I know what a kiss is, but I can’t feel your love. I never could.” A storm of conflicting emotions was swirling in him. “I would feel these things. Don’t lie to me.”

Crowley’s expression was wounded, lips parting. His shoulders slumped, but he swallowed and spoke again. “I can’t emit it anymore now that I’m Fallen,” he said slowly. “But it’s there, you’ve got to believe me.” He stammered a bit, saying a few nonsense syllables in the way Aziraphale found adorable. “I don’t have a bloody aura anymore, and I can’t feel yours, but I _know_ this is for real. Fucking Gabriel doesn’t know shit. I can’t speak for other demons, but I _can_ love,” he insisted, a hint of desperation in his tone. “Please believe me. I’ll prove it, somehow.”

Aziraphale looked away, unable to handle the open, unrestrained look of pleading on his face. He never saw Crowley look or act anything close to this way before. It made him guilty.

“Aziraphale,” he grasped his chin and turned his face back, forcing their gazes to meet, crestfallen. “Would I lie to you?”

No. He never did.

“No,” Aziraphale shook his head, heart pounding. 

“ _Please_ ,” he begged. Seeming to hear the tone of his own voice, Crowley let go of Aziraphale’s chin, sheepish. “I’ve never seen you this upset, ever, and for it to be because of me? Can’t have that. It’d keep me up at night. If this is too fast, okay. I’ll wait.” He shut his eyes, like he was gathering the strength to speak. “But don’t send me away ’cause you think you don’t mean the world to me.” 

Aziraphale was speechless.

Crowley opened his eyes and lowered them to the ground again, morose. “So. There. Now you know. I’ll, uh, leave you alone for awhile.”

And suddenly, Aziraphale realized he did know what Crowley’s love felt like. It felt like being begged to run away to the stars, like being offered a place to stay, like being rescued despite leaving off on bad terms. It felt like Crowley letting his guard down and spending time with him for no reason relating to Heaven or Hell, but just to enjoy each other’s company. It felt like being told he’d wait _millennia_. It felt like a chaste, daring and yet somehow shy kiss on the cheek. It would make sense if Crowley truly just could not emit his love anymore due to being a demon, but no emission did not equate being absent. Aziraphale, in a moment of weakness, let Gabriel screw with his mind. But it was better than feeling an aura; he felt Crowley’s love in the human way.

Aziraphale lurched forward, grabbing his hand before he could move to leave. “Crowley,” he breathed, “you would truly wait for me, no matter how long, even if it would hurt you?”

Crowley gave him a weak smile, like he was trying to mask being let down. “Hey, I’ve waited for a lifetime. It won’t be so bad.”

He ached for this ridiculous, shy, _kind_ creature. He really did mean that much to Crowley...His nose felt stuffy, so he sniffed. “I’m so sorry for doubting you. It wasn’t simply that I thought you were incapable of this, but I didn’t think you’d feel such a thing for me.” He felt really guilty now, but a glimmer of hope ignited inside him.

“Who else would I feel it for?” Crowley asked, looking less anguished after the apology. “Angel, you’ve always been my priority and my favorite part of being on earth.”

Aziraphale finally felt his grief melting away. “My dear, I was a fool for not seeing it.” The tightness left his posture and his chest stopped hurting. “You’ve loved me for a long time,” he said, believing it now, lightness shoving away the tension in his muscles.

Crowley’s fingers twitched in his and he nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Yeah, I have. And...you? You’ve loved me for a long time, too?”

Such a simple, innocent question coming from Crowley made Aziraphale squeeze his hand. “Oh, Crowley, _yes_.” He kissed his knuckles, impulsive from the sheer relief washing over him after such agony. “Please forgive me for listening to Gabriel.”

He laughed a little, his features becoming less strained by the second. “A demon forgiving an angel? What a role reversal.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I feel awful for being skeptical of you.”

“Of course I forgive you,” he said sincerely as a crooked, affectionate grin graced his lips. “I could never stay angry at you long.”

Aziraphale beamed with love.

Crowley released a sigh of relief. “There’s that angelic smile.”

Heavenly light began glowing off his wings.

“Oh, that’s new,” Crowley mused, looking up at his wings. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale looked, too, and uncurled his wings and put them over Crowley’s. 

“’S pretty,” Crowley murmured.

Aziraphale couldn’t stifle a giggle. “I never heard you call anything ‘pretty.’”

“Can’t help it, you drive me mad, angel,” Crowley tried to say smoothly, but the glow revealed a furious pink blush on his face.

Aziraphale rubbed his thumb against the top of his hand. “The feeling is mutual.”

Crowley leaned in, eyes flickering down to his lips. “Can I kiss you again?” he whispered. “On this lips this time?”

“Please do,” Aziraphale closed his eyes in anticipation.

Crowley’s lips met his, softly, wet from his licking them earlier. Aziraphale felt like his chest was overflowing with love, his wings glowing brighter. He was warm now, a flush on his cheeks from contentment instead of embarrassment now. He parted his lips, applying more pressure. He had engaged in sexual activity before, but the kissing that led up to it couldn’t compare to this. It was so very different when doing it with a loved one. He wasn’t doing it simply for the physical sensations, but because he needed to pour all of his love into Crowley. Thank heavens those clever humans invented kissing. He hadn’t expected Crowley to kiss this carefully, however. He pushed him against a wall for calling him nice, but he was caressing his lips, moving slowly and without a hint of arrogant dominance. It was unexpected but not unwelcome at all. Kissing Crowley was like floating downwards into a comfy bed after a long day; it was like his exhausted soul was finally home.

“You’re different than I imagined you’d be,” Aziraphale told him, the words muffled into the kiss.

“Huh?” Crowley asked, completely dazed when he broke the kiss.

Aziraphale positively adored that facial expression and glowed brighter. “You’re gentler.”

Crowley’s lovely pink blush turned scarlet. “I--I--eh, um, what am I supposed to say?” He scratched the back of his neck with the hand not holding Aziraphale’s, looking up at the night sky. “I shoulda known you’d be all sappy.”

“Are you bothered?”

“...No.”

Aziraphale heart was singing. He was a being in love, and now that he knew his sentiment was returned? He was free to shower him with affection. “Good, because I’m not quite sure I could stop, now that I’m not pushing all this aside. Hiding this from you was terribly difficult, you know.”

“You’re telling me,” Crowley chuckled a little. 

Aziraphale looked up at the sky, too, noticing how romantic the setting was. “You always liked space,” he commented.

“Yeah,” he said, wing curling around Aziraphale so the tips of the longest feathers were in his lap. “I helped build a lot of it.”

Aziraphale was unsure of how to respond. He so rarely heard about his pre-Fallen days. “Well,” he leaned in close, almost leaning his head on his shoulder, “you have every reason to be proud of your work, dear.”

Crowley turned his face, their noses almost touching, his eyes wet. “Angel…”

“Hey!” a voice shouted from the distance.

Aziraphale and Crowley jumped up.

A man had his car parked several feet away and he was approaching. “Are you two okay--? Oh, what the fuck?” his eyes widened.

Bugger. Their wings were out. What were they going to do? 

Crowley snapped his fingers, and instantly they were in the Bentley.

Aziraphale looked around, whiplashed. They were still holding hands. “Crowley, that man saw us!”

“For a second,” he said. “But humans have been saying they’ve seen supernatural things in nature for a long time now. Seeing two men with wings who vanished? If he’s believed by anyone, it’ll be by conspiracy theorists on the internet only.”

“Hm.”

“Hm.”

They stared at each other.

They laughed heartily. 

“You naughty serpent,” Aziraphale giggled.

Crowley’s laughter died down, but he was still smiling. He always had such a charming smile, and Aziraphale hoped he would see it more often. Their wings made them cramped in the car, so they put them away.

Crowley’s yellow eyes twinkled. “Hey, uh, wanna kiss again?”

 _Absolutely_. But making out all night in the car seemed uncomfortable, and they would surely be caught by a villager at some point. Aziraphale wanted Crowley all to himself, so they could love each other as long as they wanted. They could go on Aziraphale’s bed, hold each other and kiss and—- _oh_ , they could do more. He could make love to Crowley. His eyes glazed over. That could be very nice indeed. “Well, dear,” his voice dropped without his knowledge, “I would prefer if we continued this back in my bedroom above the bookshop. Are you agreeable?”

Crowley stared at him with huge eyes for thirteen seconds straight, then turned, and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal.

* * *

Aziraphale gasped sharply as Crowley sank down on his cock, hands tightening on his slim hips. “ _Oh_ , that’s good.”

A moan left Crowley’s mouth, his arms wrapped around Aziraphale’s neck, eyes closed and hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His eyebrows were furrowed together like he was in pain.

“Are you okay?” Aziraphale asked, restraining himself from moving. It had been such a long time since he had done this, and of course, he had never done it with his sweetheart before (Crowley would surely discorporate him if he called him that). 

“Yeah,” Crowley nodded frantically, clenching around him. “Doesn’t hurt, just, a lot from this angle.” He sank down to the hilt and shivered, biting his lower lip.

Aziraphale held back a groan, needing to hold him closer, so he wrapped his arms around his waist. He was glad Crowley was in his lap because it allowed them to embrace. He could hardly believe this was happening. Just a few hours ago, he thought he had lost Crowley’s companionship forever, but here they were, as close as could possibly be. Here he was—loved. Crowley had smothered him with clumsy but enthusiastic kisses when they got into the bedroom, leaving Aziraphale euphoric and hungry to feel his naked skin against his. The physical sensations were getting overwhelming, along with his utter devotion to Crowley. He was struck by how _right_ this felt.

Aziraphale started to buck his hips upward into the tight heat, spellbound by how Crowley’s eyes shot open and another moan left his long throat. Aziraphale pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses against his neck, licking from his steadily beating pulse to below Crowley’s ear. His lower half was consumed by heat and the rest of him full with adoration so strong it hurt. It was so hard to contain--it--

His wings sprung out of him, causing him to stutter his thrusts.

Crowley’s open mouth ticked up into a little grin. “Heh, look at that. You’re glowing again.”

Aziraphale resumed his thrusting, embarrassed to have lost control like that, but pleased when the grin disappeared as Crowley moaned some more. “I can’t help it,” he admitted, and angled his wings to wrap around Crowley protectively, supporting his back. _Mine_.

“They’re stunning,” Crowley gasped, hissing slightly, turning his face with an _unngggh_! A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

Aziraphale suddenly had a lump in his throat and swallowed. “Thank you,” he said, and meant it. He normally didn’t care about what people thought of his physical appearance, but when it was Crowley, he found himself strangely seeking approval.

Perhaps his tone caught his attention, because Crowley looked back at him as he panted, body moving up and down with each thrust, hazy yellow eyes raking him over. He cupped Aziraphale’s cheek and kissed him hard, his thumb stroking his flushed face.

Aziraphale held him tighter, lightly licking his bottom lip and sucking it, earning a delightful whine as a reward. Aziraphale’s love was taking his breath away, making him break the kiss and bring in a shaky inhale. He was finally giving into Crowley—no, they were giving into each other, and so much freedom and joy was indescribable.

“Fuck, angel,” Crowley stroked his cheek again, his expression completely aroused but full of affection, as well. “Wow.”

Aziraphale couldn’t take being looked at like that, and he started to thrust harder, needing to let out the love brimming inside him somehow. His wings glowed gold behind Crowley. “Let me see your wings,” he told him. “Please, they’re gorgeous.”

Somehow, the redness on his face deepened, and his silky black wings extended, high enough to drape over the back of Aziraphale’s. “Shit, Aziraphale” he cursed, biting his bottom lip again. 

It was a sexy thing to do, and it made the tingling in Aziraphale’s groin grow more intense. He turned his face and kissed Crowley’s palm. How did he think Gabriel was right even for a moment? Of course Crowley loved him. He took the pad of his thumb into his mouth, sucking.

Crowley let out a genuine hiss through clenched teeth. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

Aziraphale _felt_ crazy. How was he expected to maintain his sanity when he was the center of his favorite demon’s attention? 6,000 years of denial were crashing down on him. His rhythm was steady as he pounded into Crowley’s body, pleasure caressing his body with every movement. His head fell back against the headboard with a soft moan. “Crowley, you feel sublime.”

Like outside, Crowley’s wings quivered at that, feathers rippling and shining in the lamplight of the bedroom. His breaths were harsh and fast, the pupils of his eyes blown wide, but he looked insecure. “Is it good?” he asked in a small voice. He licked his lips, hand leaving Aziraphale’s face, and wrapped his arm back around his neck for support.

Aziraphale’s heart gave a hard thud. “Spectacular. You’re doing so well. You’re everything I need,” he told him honestly through a groan.

Crowley’s eyebrows pulled up into a furrow, expression painted with bliss and the need for reassurance. “Yeah?” his voice cracked.

Aziraphale’s wings held him closer, their chests brushing. It had been surprising to hear Crowley hadn’t done this before, but it made him feel special. Crowley gave into him, and only him. “Yes, my love,” he thrust harder into him, and tilted his hips to the side just so, hitting into that bundle of nerves.

A strangled shout tore its way out of Crowley, his back and wings arching against the golden light from Aziraphale’s wings. He looked _magnificent_. He quickly scrambled and buried his face into Aziraphale’s neck, hugging him tightly, arms and wings shaking. “What the fuck? Why—ah! Why’s it—?”

“Your prostate,” he explained, relishing his reaction. “It’s q-quite the sweet spot, I’ve heard.”

Crowley was too far gone to respond to that. Instead, he clutched and moaned and his nails dug into his skin. “Aziraphale! Azira--!” his voice was hoarse and unsteady. “ _Ahhh_ , fuck, keep going, please, please!”

Aziraphale knew no heavenly choir could hold a candle to the words spoken into his skin. His bollocks were pulling up and, damn, he was close. He was breathing roughly out of his mouth, thighs straining from Crowley’s weight, cock engulfed in tight, white hot _splendid_ heat. 

Crowley’s hands slithered up into his hair, gripping the white, sweaty curls tightly. “It’s—it’s so fucking much,” he whimpered into his neck. “I need—I need it, Aziraphale.”

“I know, darling,” Aziraphale kissed the side of his head, feeling the tidal wave of pleasure about to crash. _Almost_ , _almost_. He felt stupid with affection, wings lighting the room more than the lamp. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Crowley was his, and always his, always ready to be by his side, always willing to accommodate his Heaven-fueled temper tantrums, always loving him. “Tell me you love me,” he pleaded into Crowley’s hair. “I need to hear it,” he admitted, his sweaty chest brushing up against Crowley’s with each thrust. _So close._

“ _Uuungh_ ,” Crowley whined into his skin. “I love you, my beautiful bastard angel,” he cried. “For 6,000 years.”

Aziraphale’s climax was already overtaking him, his bollocks releasing and cock spilling into his body, thrusts completely erratic as he released a sob into Crowley’s hair, eyes shut tightly. Those words were ringing in his ears like the sweetest violin in the world. He would always remember them, until the end of time and beyond.

Then Crowley was clenching around him, spurting hotly onto their stomachs and chests, coming untouched, and muffling his yell into Aziraphale’s shoulder. They rode out their climaxes clinging to each other for dear life, sucking air they didn’t need into their lungs, trembling with aftershocks. Aziraphale tilted his hips down into the mattress so he could slip out of him and then lowered them backwards, his wings spread out against the mattress, the glow slowly fading. Crowley’s wings relaxed, too, going limp behind him. He kept his face in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, huffing hot, damp breaths. Their hearts were beating rapidly against each other, sweaty bodies pressed together, sweat and semen mixing on their abdomens.

Aziraphale was sure he was never this happy before. _For 6,000 years._ Crowley was such a sweet dear when he let his guard down. Aziraphale opened his eyes, smiling. “I suppose I should thank Gabriel,” he said. “He got us together.”

Crowley bit his shoulder. “Don’t ever mention that fuckwit in bed again.”

Aziraphale giggled, running a hand absentmindedly through Crowley’s hair. “I’m teasing.” He remembered what Gabriel had said. “I suppose Heaven is laughing at me, but the joke’s on them.”

“It is,” Crowley yawned, rolling onto his back, and accidentally rolling onto Aziraphale’s wing. 

“Ouch!”

“Fuck!” he sat up. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Aziraphale sat up and retracted his wings.

“You didn’t have to put ‘em away,” Crowley pouted.

“For cuddling, I think it’s for the best.”

“Oi,” he glared at him, copper hair sticking up, “I don’t cuddle.”

Aziraphale found that he had the desire to be quite impish with the knowledge that Crowley was actually fond of him. “So you’d be opposed if I lay down with my head on your chest?”

Crowley softened, and without a word he put away his wings and lay on his back, arms out, waiting for him.

Aziraphale pecked him on the lips and did as he said he would, curling up against his side and resting his ear over Crowley’s heart, hearing its even beat. He miracled away the mess on their stomachs.

Crowley wrapped an arm around his shoulder, nuzzling his nose into his hair. “Okay, this is nice,” he murmured with fake resignation. He let out another yawn. “Anyway, Gabriel’s a shit and I still want to kill him for upsetting you.”

“I didn’t really care what he thought,” he said. “I only got so upset because I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

“I still wanna kill him, and now you know you’ve got me whipped,” he murmured into his hair, sounding sleepy.

“‘Whipped’?” he asked in confusion.

Crowley groaned. “It means I’m loyal to you, totally gross and head-over-heels.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale smiled, kissing his chest. “The feeling is mutual.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Aziraphale’s ear. Crowley was completely relaxed beneath him, Hell not haunting him for once. “Ya know...you didn’t actually directly say you love me. Just putting that out there.”

Aziraphale laughed and lightly smacked his thigh. “You devil. After all that.”

“Well, yeah!”

His eyelids fluttered shut, the little bubble of affection he felt making the nearby lamp flicker. “I’m in love with you, Crowley,” he whispered, “quite desperately. Irreversibly, even.” His soul felt light as air.

Crowley sniffed. His heart beat a little faster. “Cool.”

Aziraphale chuckled through a yawn. “Stop it, you.” Something about relaxing with Crowley made him crave sleep. He supposed the vigorous love making didn’t help.

“We’ll have to kiss in public so those arsehole angels can see,” Crowley mumbled. “They’ll probably spy on us sooner or later.”

“Good Lord,” Aziraphale opened his eyes so he could roll them. “Would that truly be necessary?”

“Definitely. They need to be proven wrong after Gabriel insulted you.” He gasped, sitting up and sending Aziraphale face-down on the mattress with an _oof_.

“What on earth?” Aziraphale muttered, putting his head on the pillow.

A dirty smirk brought Crowley’s lips up into a curl, a wicked sparkle to his eye. “Aziraphale...does Gabriel still get notifications of every miracle you perform?”

“Um, I suppose,” he thought about it. “I may not work for Heaven anymore, but I haven’t been cast out, either. Why?”

Crowley wiggled his eyebrows.

“What?”

“You just miracled away our semen.”

Aziraphale covered his face with his hands. “Oh, my goodness!” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that!

“Yes!” Crowley laughed, immensely satisfied. He lay down and nuzzled Aziraphale’s ear. “That’ll teach him to mess with my angel,” he said, voice husky. “Every time we have sex, you’ll have to miracle it away.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Aziraphale mumbled into his palms. _My angel._ He could get used to being called that. 

“You like it deep down,” Crowley wrapped his arm around his soft middle, kissing his temple.

Aziraphale lowered his hands, face burning. “Lord help me, but I do.”

* * *

“Why are you still here?” Michael asked, entering Gabriel’s office. “You never stay in here this long.”

Gabriel was frozen, staring down at a piece of paper on his desk, horror and disgust on his face. He said nothing.

Michael walked over and read the piece of paper over his shoulder.

_Notification of miracle from Principality Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate: Miracled away human bodily fluids off his and the demon Crowley’s bodies._

They stared down at the piece of paper for a long time.

Gabriel finally lifted his head. “He consorted with a demon.”

“He did more than consort. How has the Almighty not cast him out of Heaven?”

“I have no idea, but there’s nothing we can do. We can’t kill either of them.”

“Right.”

Silence.

“Do you think...it is possible for a demon to love?” Michael asked.

“No,” Gabriel laughed weakly. “No, it can’t be.”

“Of course,” she didn’t sound convinced.

More silence.

“I didn’t know Aziraphale made the Effort,” Michael said.

Gabriel shuddered. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Neither do I.”

“Maybe it’s best if we leave them alone,” Gabriel said. “Forever.”

“Agreed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) They're so fun to write  
> If you liked this, please check out my [other Good Omens fics!](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=575567&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&commit=Sort+and+Filter&user_id=LollipopCop)
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